


by the light of the dark

by marcasite



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, But so is Jyn, Cassian is in love, Character Study, Did I Mention Angst?, F/M, Rogue One Anniversary Week, Sharing a Bed, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 18:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12989835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marcasite/pseuds/marcasite
Summary: The first time she slid into his bed, as quiet as a thief in the night, he knew he was lost. Her quiet presence makes his heart beat the rhythm of the lost and he can still feel it, then and every night since. There is no way she doesn’t know, no way she is not aware of how desperately his heart beats for her, how he needs a pacemaker whenever she is around.





	by the light of the dark

**Author's Note:**

> Ooooh kay, here's the deal. The last time I wrote something was almost a year ago. Like a lifetime ago. So go very gentle on me as I dip my toe back into writing and into a new fandom for me. 
> 
> This is for Rogue One Anniversary Week: Day Three (December 12th): Writing Prompt: Light & Dark (posting a day early since I am not around tomorrow as much)

_But if you want my heart then it's time that you start to act like you're mine in the light and the dark_

 

She is a ghost.

He watches for her, looks for her throughout the day, but she is there one moment and gone the next. He knows it’s not avoidance (or at least he tells himself that) but it still puzzles him how easily she disappears. After Scarif, (he thinks of Scarif as _before_ and _after_ ) he finds his eyes search out for her, seeking for a glimpse of her. He knows that he can put himself in her path, find Bodhi or Chirrut who will lead him to her, but that isn’t what he wants. He wants her to seek _him_ out, to _want_ to spend her days with him, to _need_ his company the way he craves hers. For someone whose sole companion was an android he painstakingly reprogrammed, the idea that he would open himself to whatever possibilities lay before him, is startling. 

He feels the beat of time and knows he is running against it.

 

+

It’s easy, falling in love. He does so with his whole heart, completely. He has loved her since he stood in front of her, welcoming her home, he knows. What he doesn’t know, has no idea about, is if she ever even cared. He thought he knew but she’s a ghost, doesn’t talk about herself, not to him. And the memories of the shared moments feel like so much dust in his past. 

+

 

In the light of day, she is nothing and nowhere. 

But at night, in the deep dark lovely of night, she appears at his side and silently slides into his bed curling tightly into herself, daring him to push her away.

He doesn’t dare.

He’ll take these moments; however, he can steal them. He aches to reach out, to comfort her in some small way. He feels his hands tremble with the effort of holding himself back, curling them together so he doesn't make her leave. He’s grateful for these small moments, grateful for her trust in him but _needs_ something more. He wants her to talk to him, he wants to share with her and it’s an emptiness inside of him that threatens to consume him every time she walks through his door at night. The first time she slid into his bed, as quiet as a thief in the night, he knew he was lost. Her quiet presence makes his heart beat the rhythm of the lost and he can still feel it, then and every night since. There is no way she doesn’t know, no way she is not aware of how desperately his heart beats for her, how he needs a pacemaker whenever she is around. 

He knows, _he knows_ , that if he pushes her, she will scatter like the stardust her father called her and he will be left behind clutching nothing but memories and what’s left of his broken heart.

So, he waits, never breathes a word, never moves a muscle. He discovers the cadence of her breath and realizes that this rhythm, their rhythm, is the only thing that helps him sleep. He still doesn’t say anything, his reticence suppressed in the face of her quiet sorrow. The silence is oppressive between them, nothing that can easily be said, and nothing that can be easily understood. He is everything that she wants and nothing she needs, he believes. He wants to believe that she is waiting for him to say something that will tie them together, to make them whole, but he is not sure he can leave his heart so bare. 

So, he doesn’t say anything at all.

And every morning, in the bright light of day, she is still gone. Nothing but the missed moments she’s left behind.

 

+

It’s easy, falling in love. He does so with his whole heart, completely. He has loved her since he stood in front of her, welcoming her home, he knows. What he doesn’t know, has no idea about, is if she ever even cared. He thought he knew but she’s a ghost, doesn’t talk about herself, not to him. And the memories of the shared moments feel like so much dust in his past. 

+

 

Then suddenly, not talking isn’t enough. He burns with the need to tell share something (anything) with her, to pour his heart out and open it to whatever wounds may be inflicted. He knows that he should be the one to take the risk, he needs to be the one to leave something behind. He wants to tell her about his life, about what it was before, but all he has left to share is a road map of scars and empty pathways. What little beauty he has seen in his life is contained in her. His past is a web of war, lies, and deceit; most of what has defined his life.

But not everything.

So instead, in the deep dark of the night, he whispers stories his mama shared, breathing them into her hair in his own language. In his words, there in his tone as he whispers to her, he pours out his love for her. He wants her to hear the love with every line and he wants her to know that what he feels for her is so deep it threatens to wash them both away. He is trying to reach her in the only way he knows how; with his words, his memories of happier time, a different time.

He stills when he feels her shift, turning herself to look at him, her gaze washing over him in the sliver of light the stars outside bleed out. “Will you teach me?”

He can feel his eyes burn, throat thick with emotion. “You want to learn?”

She reaches up to touch his cheek lightly, oh so lightly. He shivers at her touch and swears that touch alone carves away a lifetime of loneliness. “Yes. It’s a part of you.”

For it her, it is that simple. 

She smiles widely, the smile he sees is genuine and for him alone. His breath catches and he thinks she’s beautiful. When she smiles, his heart beats in time to the rhythm of _her_. He is a fool he once called himself, because her smiles are worth every moment of pain he believes is to come and more fool he for causing them to fade even once. 

He’ll breathe in the echo of her happiness for as long as he can.

 

+

 

He shifts awake and knows that last night could have been a turning point. He knows he’ll see nothing but emptiness but can’t delay the moment, wants to delay…can’t delay…and opens his eyes. His breath escapes in an exhale when he sees her asleep, awaking at his sigh. He remembers how it was, the whisper of her hair tracing a path along his skin; the cadence of her sighs as she slept against his neck, the warmth of her body next to his, and knows that she holds everything that he wants. Even if he must steal it away one night at a time, it’s time for them to stop running.

He tells himself he’s finally sold away the last dark piece of his soul and that she will lead him down a new path, not unlike the white rabbit leading Alice in fairy tales his mother use to tell him late at night. Smiling at him, she winds her hands through his hair and he lets the warmth of her sweet breath burn his lips; then and there he decides that he could very possibly follow her anywhere.

 

+

It’s easy, falling in love. He does so with his whole heart, completely. He has loved her since he stood in front of her, welcoming her home, he knows. What he now knows, what he clearly understands, is that her heart also beats to the rhythm of the lost and the absence of sound was her heart reaching out to bear the weight of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, sorry guys but hope I fixed in the end. Come say hi to me on [tumblr](http://leaiorganas.tumblr.com/), **leaiorganas** over there!


End file.
